


Striking a cord.

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-15
Updated: 2007-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://gw500.livejournal.com/"><b>gw500</b></a> prompt strain</p>
            </blockquote>





	Striking a cord.

"Guy troubles?"

Trowa raised one shoulder and let it drop slowly, making no effort to respond verbally. Instead he toyed with the shot glass in front of him, turning it one way and then the other before lifting it to his lips and tossing it back with an expert flick of his wrist. Unfortunately the cheerful voice emanating from the other side of the bar wasn't taking the hint that he wanted to be alone and suffer in his misery. Instead his glass disappeared to be replaced with a full one and elbows rested on the bar top indicating the bartender was settling down to listen instead of wandering away to care for the other patrons.

Sighing, Trowa tossed his hair out of his eyes and downed the new shot, feeling the white-hot glow of the alcohol burning through him. "More like lack of guy troubles."

The elbows disappeared and when they reappeared there were two glasses in tow. Taking that as an invitation, he downed one, then the other in rapid succession, ignoring the amused snort. "You're a good looking guy. Finding someone shouldn't be a strain on your obvious overabundance of people skills."

The apparent genuineness of the statement made Trowa raise his head and for the first time look at the man he was having a somewhat one sided conversation with. He had to admit what he saw was pleasing to the eye. The sweet faced blond smiling at him appeared to be completely without guile though the sparkle in his eye hinted that he might not be quite as innocent as he looked. He was wearing the prerequisite outfit of just cuffs and a collar, but unlike the rest of the wait staff his bowtie was a rich midnight blue instead of black. He paused for a minute, unsure, then began to talk. Something Cathy had been prodding him to do for two months. "I was living with someone, but he moved out."

Trowa pushed his empty glass forward, a hint the bartender promptly ignored. Instead he pulled a stool up and settled himself on it, resting his chin on his hands. "So, what happened?"

"We had different needs." Trowa shrugged and dropped his gaze back to the polished bar to avoid the sympathy in the soft blue eyes. "I needed a stable long term relationship based on trust and he needed me to support him so he could screw other guys while I was at work."

"I'm sorry. That must have been rough."

"I'm over it."

"I can see that." The words were followed by a soft chuckle that held no hint of reprimand or pity. "By the way, my name is Quatre." A hand sans shot glass appeared in Trowa's line of sight and he took it, shaking once, but noting the calluses on the tips of the fingers and across the palm.

"Trowa."

"Nice to meet you, Trowa.

For the first time in what seemed like forever Trowa smiled feeling genuinely pleased to be talking to another human being. "Same."


End file.
